


Change is sweet (like powdered sugar)

by eLOCIn, Percilout



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, Pining, Post-Break Up, no beta we die like BvS Superman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eLOCIn/pseuds/eLOCIn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percilout/pseuds/Percilout
Summary: Things in life change mostly for the worse and Bruce knows that. That's why, when he finds Clark standing on the manor's doorstep after a sudden change in his life, Bruce does his best to be there for him.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75





	Change is sweet (like powdered sugar)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JusticePlague](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JusticePlague/gifts).



> For JusticePlague, who was the only one to reply when I asked for prompts on Twitter. "Bruce snuggling Clark after a messy breakup with Lex" then became this. Hope I did it justice (hah).

Things in life change. And not often for the better.

Bruce had learned that early on, even before his parents were killed. He had learned that a lot of people didn’t have it easy in life, that they had trouble getting work or food, that they couldn’t give their children an education. He had learned that people die, even if it could have been prevented. When Bruce’s parents died, he felt the change deep in his bones. It took him a while to realise it, but in the end he knew, without a doubt, that he’d never recover from it.

Things in life change mostly for the worse ( _always_ seem to change for the worse, when it comes to him) and Bruce knew that. He had known it when his parents died, had known when his son left him and another son died.

He knew it as Clark stood on his doorstep, shaking and crying, telling him that his boyfriend had broken up with him.

That day, Bruce had half a mind to tell Clark that it had never been a good idea to date _Lex Luthor_ of all people, but he bit his tongue and kept quiet. Clark needed comfort and Bruce wasn’t about to hurt him more than the man’s ex had already done.

Bruce knew that things mostly changed for the worse, but that wasn’t the case for Clark. His best friend had the tendency to always see the best in things, to always hope that everything would turn out alright in the end. 

So, he let Clark in and sat him down, gave him a warm blanket and fetched him a cup of hot chocolate. He sat down next to Clark and ignored the e-mails in his inbox and the files he should be going through, all that was stacking up in his study and the cave. He sat down and comforted Clark, because that was more important at that moment. He sat there and held Clark as the tears kept flowing. He held him and kept his mouth shut about everything he thought.

Twice is a pattern and three times a habit, so Bruce wasn’t surprised when he found Clark in his home for the fourth time in a month.

It was December, Clark was sad and Bruce was angry. He was _extremely_ angry because Clark loved this time of the year, loved the world’s different traditions of coming together and spending time with each other. His dislike of Luthor grew into burning-hot hate as Clark buried his face in his shoulder yet again and told him of the plans he and Lex had made, of the two weeks in Smallville to spend their entire holidays together.

The murmured “I know it was early but… but I was so certain he’d ask me to marry him someday” only made his grip stronger, made him hold Clark closer, made him close his eyes and bury his face in the soft curls he was stroking. Bruce wasn’t good with words, but the feeling of Clark relaxing into him told him enough. He was understood; no need to say anything that could be misconstrued.

There had always been an extraordinary sort of understanding between them when they weren’t going head-to-head. When they weren’t caught up in a debate, it was easy. They were friends, best friends even, and they shared that intrinsic knowledge of what was happening that all best friends seemed to share. That’s exactly why, when Clark’s habit of suddenly materialising in his house for a session of comforting hugs didn’t decrease, Bruce started to grow anxious. Because, when Clark had still been with Luthor, it had been significantly easier to bury his own feelings, to keep them hidden in the darkest depths of his mind. Now, when Clark was lying in his arms, head cushioned on his shoulder, he couldn’t help but revel in how right it felt.

It felt right. And he felt guilty.

He didn’t dare say a thing.

Whenever Clark was over, Alfred and the kids knew to stay away. It wasn’t something any of them had ever talked about, but the implicit understanding that this time and space was reserved only for the two of them was… nice, in a way. At least he suspected it was nice. His thoughts on the matter were rather more jumbled than he preferred.

It had been going on for six months now. A little more than half the time Clark and Lex had been together. Gradually, they had started simply hanging out. Sitting on the couch, listening to music, watching their favourite films. Eventually, it even evolved into doing their work together, laptops propped up on their knees, while Bruce’s arm was slung over Clark’s shoulders and Clark’s head rested on his.

This time, though, Clark was purely snuggling into him, his whole body turned towards him. Clark’s knee rested on top of his thigh as his nose poked into his neck, soft breaths tickling at his collarbone.

They were talking about everything and nothing, the weather in Indonesia and the YouTube videos Bruce had watched to keep up with the newest fashion trends (after all, all the tailors and stylists on his payroll wouldn’t amount to anything if he was incapable of forming his own opinion on what people were wearing). 

There was no way for him to see, but the shifting of skin against skin told him the story of Clark’s precious smile. It was nearly enough to only feel it.

It would never be enough.

The topic changed to pollinated flowers and Bruce, for some childish reason, couldn’t stifle a dry joke about the birds and the bees. Clark laughed — the sort that forces itself out of your chest as a snort, without an ounce of elegance and always far too loud — and then, as if a spell was broken, his hand, previously lying unmoving on his own lap, inched towards Bruce’s and held it gently. Their fingers, carefully intertwined, rested on Bruce’s thigh as Clark sank ever deeper into his side.

There was shame mixed into the enjoyment of this soft touch and Bruce had never been more glad that the kids and Alfred weren’t there to see.

Whatever this was, whatever they were doing, they didn’t talk about it.

Afterwards, the visits grew more frequent and for some reason, Clark began an annoying habit of bringing too-sweet snacks with him. 

Clark also started giving Bruce more of his big smiles, the ones that made his eyes crinkle. And Bruce was sure that Clark didn’t miss any of his reactions to that, didn’t miss how his breath left him each time and his lips curved up into soft smiles.

With each new visit, Clark took his hand more readily. They never wasted a single word on Lex.

If anyone had asked, Bruce would have told them that he didn’t actually think the snacks were annoying. He just liked the way Clark laughed whenever he grumbled about them far too much to stop pretending. But don’t let anyone hear that. It was just another thing they weren’t talking about.

Another time, when Clark came into the study, he kissed Bruce’s cheek and told him of an article on Asian immigrants in Metropolis he was currently working on.

It was only fitting that Clark had brought them some Asian desserts that day. Bruce, for once, stole a few of them. He had missed the subtle sweetness of sticky rice and coconut.

Hours later, when he needed to go on patrol, Bruce pressed a kiss against Clark’s temple and thanked him for the treats. The other words, the more important ones, sat on the tip of his tongue, but they didn’t make it across his lips.

_Thank you_ is what was caught in his throat. It wasn’t meant for the sweets.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Ten months. It had been ten months since Clark had first appeared on his doorstep — nearly as long as the rather unfortunate relationship had lasted — when they finally shared their first kiss.

It was sweet, because of course it was. Bruce could taste the donut Clark just had, could lick the powdery sugar off his lips. They were standing next to the windows and the sunshine was reflecting in the corner of the glasses Clark was still wearing. His eyes glittered in the light and the black curls felt softer than ever as they wrapped around Bruce’s fingers.

It was plainly evident that they both had things to say. But it was so serene, so beautiful, that neither of them was brave enough to shatter the silence around them.

They could talk later.

_Later_ turned out to be the next time Clark came over. He seemed nervous, but it was overlaid by a bashful smile that caught Bruce like a spear in the chest.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me. An actual one. Not— not whatever we’ve been doing this past year.”

And Bruce didn’t wonder if Clark could hear the pounding of his heart. No, instead, he took Clark’s hand and guided it right to his chest, only the thin fabric of his dress shirt keeping skin apart from skin. It felt strange, it felt daring, it felt right.

“Clark,” he croaked. His mouth was inexplicably parched. “You must know for how long I’d already have agreed to that proposition.”

“I know,” Clark answered and his gaze was full of unspoken promises. “We’ve been wasting so much time not mentioning it. But I— I needed it. To get over him. To make _this_ feel right.”

“Is it? Is it right?” 

For the Gothamite, there was no questioning his own feelings. Love burnt deep in his soul, hot and bright. But Clark… as much as he loved him, Clark would always be a bit of a mystery to him, some sort of adventure he didn’t dare hope for.

It was just a smile. And a whisper. But it made his heart sing, made it pound ever harder against Clark’s warm hand. “There has never been anything more right in my life.”

They kissed again and there was no sugar on his lips, but he’d never tasted anything this sweet before.

They kissed and Bruce dared to hope again.

They kissed and somewhere along the line, Bruce learnt that sometimes, things in life can change for the better, even for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> ~Lou


End file.
